Lucidity
by CharlieBrownsInsanePyromaniacalExGirlfriend
Summary: What could have happened to Xander and Faith, postChosen.


Lucidity

Summary: Just a post-Chosen fic that came out of my head for no reason.

Rating: Pg-13 I guess.

A/N: Kinda sorta dark but nothing graphic or violent or sexual. It's just kind of disturbing I think (and I wrote it). The song Xander sings is 'When Irish Eyes Are Smiling'.

_After we closed the Hellmouth, we headed to somewhere cold. Away from the feeling of heat, away from the giant crater that used to be home to all of us at one point. _

_But we couldn't get away from the memories. _

_Or the demons. _

_Dawnie called and asked how Xander was a few times a week. I always told her the same thing. _

_Stable. _

_Now, you're all probably wondering what happened to Xander. I mean, I called him "stable" and we all know that's not something you'd call a normal person. That's what people call me and God's fucked if they're wrong. He was the worst of them all after Sunnydale. _

_After Sunnydale, he kinda...how should I say it? He kinda...closed everyone off, locked himself outta the house even. He'd walk around with this blank look on his face mosta the time, if he even got outta bed at all. I guess losin' the love of your life'll do that to ya. I wouldn't know - I've never had one. _

_Anyway, Xander he'd...well, he was kinda like tuning a radio afterwards. You know what I mean - at first there's nothing but static and as you move the bar up the frequencies you get music and the higher you get you get more music and even more static. He'd get like that. _

_Like, Willow'd be talking to him, and he'd just completely faze out, staring at nothing. Then, they came to get me, and I'd bring him back. I'm still not sure why he'd respond to me. I'm not anybody special, I mean, I tried to **kill**__the guy for fucks' sakes! No need to worry about him going anywhere while they were coming to find me. One time, I think it took Willow three and a half hours to find me and take me back to the building we were occupying at the time. He was just standing there, staring up at the corner where the wall meets the ceiling, barely blinking, feet firmly spread apart, hands at his sides. Willow buried her face in my shoulder and I deduced as best I could that that was exactly how she'd left him. Exactly. He hadn't moved an inch. _

_So, I sent Willow away and approached him slowly. I moved around in front of him and leaned in, sliding my arms under his arms and around his waist, burying my head in his shoulder like Willow had done to me. I felt the stiffness in his body melt away and he slid his own arms around my frame, hugging me tightly. _

_"You scared Willow, big guy." I murmured into his chest, knowing fully well that he could hear me perfectly. "She broke down into tears." _

_I turned my face up toward his, resting my chin on his chest, which rose and fell evenly. I could hear the thumping of his heart, pounding in my ears and it hurt. _

_"Sorry." he whispered, moving his gaze down the wall a little so that he was looking straight ahead instead of up. "I think I dozed off for a minute." _

_That's another thing. When he would go...wherever he'd go, he didn't know that time passed. I'm sure that if he ever fazed out in the woods or someplace like that, days could go by and he wouldn't know it unless I told him. _

_"It's been three hours, baby." I murmured and he looked down at me in surprise. _

_"Maybe I took a nap." he said simply and I sighed softly, closing my eyes so he couldn't see how painful it was to see him like this. _

_"Nope." I said, forcing a grin onto my face and opening my eyes. "You fazed out again." _

_"Oh." _

_"Do you wanna take a nap?" _

_"I think so." _

_And so I broke away from his embrace and grabbed his hand, my own being dwarfed in comparison. I led him slowly to his room and opened the door, leading him inside. He looked around in confusion and his grip on my hand tightened. _

_"Xander, do-" _

_"This isn't my room." _

_"Xander, it is, it's -" _

_"THIS ISN'T MY ROOM!" he yelled, yanking his hand out of my grip and running for the door. He couldn't figure out how to open it and settled for scrabbling at the timber, making the remainder of the white paint begin to chip. _

_There were already deep scratch marks on the back of the door speckled with blood. _

_We'd tried to fix it, filled in the scratches, painted it with new paint, tried to make him stop, and still it never worked. So we just stopped caring about the door, unless it got to the point where he punched through it. Then, we'd just gotten another door. _

_I just sat down on my bed and put my face in my palms, twining the fingers through my hair, trying not to cry. _

_What had happened to the man I knew? What had happened to the one who told bad jokes and was just all around happy? The one who made me smile and warmed my heart with his innate ability to carry the pain of so many others and still fail to find them at fault? _

_I'd been asking myself that for the past year and a half. _

_What happened? What happened? WHAT HAPPENED? _

_The scrabbling had stopped while I was lost in my thoughts and I looked up toward the door. A handprint lay on the edge of the doorframe, carrying over to the minty green walls, drying in the dead air. _

_Xander had moved to the mirror and removed his eyepatch. He was busy throughly exploring the area with his bloody fingers. Trying to see if the eye was actually still in there, I guess. He never told me what he was doing. _

_"Xander?" I asked weakly and he jumped, grabbing my hairbrush on the dresser below the mirror and spinning around, wielding it wildly like a stake. _

_It would've been funny if it wasn't so sad. _

_"Xander, do you still want to take a nap?" _

_"I told the cat and now my mother sitting all alone." Xander said, clutching the brush like a lifeline. "She told me that once, she did." _

_"Willow?" I asked. _

_"Tara." he explained, beginning to pace in front of the dresser. _

_"Oh." _

_"Tara's my friend." he said, looking up at me. "She keeps me company sometimes. When I'm-when I'm alone an-and we talk about what it's like to die." _

_This alarmed me. He'd told me about Tara before, comparing her to an angel, and told me that they "talked" but he'd never tell me about what it was they talked about. _

_"Do you wanna see Tara?" he asked and I blinked. He was kneeling in front of me between my thighs, still holding the hairbrush. _

_"We should clean you up if you wanna go see Tara." I said before I could stop myself. _

_"You're my friend, too." he said, reaching up to touch my cheek with his fingertips. He stopped shortly before he touched my face and jerked his hand away roughly. "No touching the pretty thing! We'll make it all dirty." he yelled, tossing the brush across the room where it hit the wall and fell to the floor. _

_Angel had come to visit me once and was shocked at Xander's state. Angel said he talked like Drusilla talked to her dolls. Xander was currently observing the palm of his hand like he'd be able to find something. Soon afterwards, Angel left and he hadn't been back since. _

_"Make it all dirty." Xander said, wiping his hands on the bedspread desperately. I knew exactly what he was doing, if only from doing it so many years ago. _

_He was trying to get the blood off his hands. _

_"Dirty. Dirty!" He began to panic, wiping his hands on his pants now. "Get it off! Get it off me!" _

_"Xander!" I yelled and he froze, looking up at me with fear in his eyes. "Come on, we'll go and get it off." _

_He remained where he was as I went into the bathroom and drew hot water into the tub I kept beside the toilet for times like this. It was white - I think it used to be some sort of pink color but we'd bleached the thing so many times that the pink was gone. I grabbed a couple of towels and walked back into the room with the tub, slinging the towels onto my shoulder. I set the tub down at the end of the bed and approached Xander again, tugging his arm gently, leading him over to sit on the bed. I dunked one of the towels into the water, rang it out and grabbed one of his hands, wiping at the blood. _

_"See?" I asked gently as I did this. Made the blood go away. "See, now? Nothing to get upset about. It's going away." _

_Soon, his hands were clean and I began to wipe at his face. Words I had once said to Angelus kept repeating themselves in my head, over and over, like a loop. _

_You know what insanity is, baby? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. _

_Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. _

_I grabbed the dry towel on my shoulder and dried his face and hands, wiping away the beads of water that had collected on his skin. I stood again, grabbing the tub and going to pour the contents down the drain before setting it in the tub. It would have to be bleached again, the red streaks removed. _

_Looking at myself in the mirror, I sighed again and moved to wipe the blood that had gotten on my face off. I leaned down, cupping my hands under the faucet, and splashed my face. Looking up at myself again, I really took in my appearance for the first time in months. I couldn't even see myself in the person who stared back at me. _

_My already pale skin had become almost transparent, stretched over my bones and muscle so tightly that it had a bluish tinge to it. Well, that explains the bruises that last longer than they should have. There were dark bags under my eyes, like half-formed shiners, and my hair had none of the luster or volume it used to have when I was younger... _

_That's such a funny phrase. _

_When I was younger. _

_I feel old, older than I should. _

_Swallowing, I rubbed at my red nose and sniffled before shaking my head and heading back into the bedroom. The sight that greeted me made me smile gently. Xander was curled up beneath the covers of the bed, snoring softly. And so I did the only thing I'd been doing for a year and a half. _

_I crawled beneath the covers and curled up next to him, watching how his face-his childlike face-was lost in deep sleep before slipping into my own trouble version of peaceless slumber._

_When I awoke, I reached out to hug Xander only to discover him missing. I opened my eyes and looked around the room until my eyes fell on the shattered door._

_Damn it._

_I pushed the covers away and scrambled from the bed, tugging the door open and stalking into the hall. I looked one way then the other before I began walking to the left. This was one of many ritualistic games of hide and seek Xander and I had started when he'd lost it._

_Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results._

_I found him out in the yard, staring up at the stars._

_"Xander, what are you doing?"_

_He just looked at me and smiled._

_"And we dance." he said, taking my hand and pulling me into a dancing position. He began to hum and we just spun round and round as he started to sing. _

_**There's a tear in your eye and I'm wondering why**_

_**For it never should be there at all**_

_**With such pow'r in your smile**_

_**Sure a stone you'd beguile**_

_**So there's never a teardrop should fall**_

_**When your sweet lilting laughter's**_

_**Like some fairy's song**_

_**And your eyes twinkle bright as can be**_

_**You should laugh all the while**_

_**And all other times smile**_

_**And now, smile a smile for me...**_

_Slowly, he leaned into me and whispered into my ear._

_"Come back to me, Faith." he said and I closed my eyes, smiling._

_"Come back to me."_

_I opened my eyes and once more I was a patient in the psych ward of a hospital in Boston, dancing with my visitor-best friend._

_Robin and Anya were both dead after all and Xander was always the strong one._


End file.
